My cerebral blender is still spinning on high, but it's jammed with sticks and the motor is smoking. One thing the new medication does do for me is steal the urge to wake up in the morning, and cap the fingertips my written thoughts normally flow right through.
used to sit here on my rock of a keyboard and catch the little thought-birds in my net; try and see if I could get them all singing the same song. I never knew where the flock would fly, but catch only one and the rest would usually follow. Now I feel as if I no longer have opposable thumbs, I have as much success as a walrus attempting to catch fireflies.
I miss conducting my morning symphony, it's a part of me that I love best. I'll get it figured out eventually, if my cranium does not implode.
I miss all of you too.